In The Garden of Memories
by FanWhovianChick
Summary: Landing in a forbidden no go zone has the Twelfth Doctor confused and worried but the unexpected run in with his long dead (er not so dead) wife leads to gardens, museums, rescues, and dancing. All of which add up to one of his favorite things, trouble. On HIATUS, see profile.
1. Chapter 1: Love Unchanged

Hello sweeties, I have something new and that hopefully doesn't suck. It's my first fic with the Twelfth Doctor, so I'm a bit nervous. I started this back in April 2014 and finally got around to finishing this first part. I self edited the second scene so...sorry, cause I suck at it.

Hope you and enjoy and let me know what cha think.

* * *

 _"_ _Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality."_ – Emily Dickinson

 **Love Unchanged**  
_)(_

" **O** kay, when you said parks and gardens, you meant parks" Clara gazed, wide eyed at the scenery, spread out below. "And a whooole lot of gardens. "

There was every type of garden she could imagine, and some beyond her. Flowing smoothly into each other, regardless of manner or type. Terran and alien plants alike; blooms, fruits, and vegetables all carefully blended. Hidden among parks, arboretums, restaurants, and museums.

She had seen nebulas, morphing stars, and countless other beautiful places, yet this had to rank high on the list. The distance from the observation deck didn't take anything away from the view that stunned her with its complexity.

The Doctor had parked the TARDIS near the deck, part of a mountain trail that seemed to wind upward for miles. He came to stand beside her, gazing out at the scenery for a moment, then bent to the side to look at her, "Your eyes are doing that thing again. " He stated, annoyance lacing his voice.

Clara rolled her eyes, not bothering to respond to it.

"So, here we are. The two of us standing around on a mountain looking down at a really… gorgeous view." She waited a few beats for him to do something, give an explanation; he didn't, which was not entirely unexpected. She turned towards him, a hand on her hip.

"Okay, spit it out. You were talking about taking me to see the Eternal Cat-eyed walk ways, or whatever, and the next thing I know you brought us here."

She held up a finger to prevent him from replying just yet, "and you…" She gestured at him, "this _you_ , doesn't babble but you were and about this place, as if you were doing something you shouldn't."

"It's just a pit stop, Clara." He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. That alone told her the Doctor was guilty of something. This version of him seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of her so the fact he felt the need to avoid it bugged her.

Clara sucked on the inside of her cheek, biting the tip of her finger. It was so hard to ignore her curiosity sometimes. She wasn't sure she should indulge it with the Doctor though, not in the way she use to. Oh, who was she kidding? She was a sucker for punishment apparently.

"Really, a pit stop? Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

He turned to look at her finally. "You can believe what you like." His gaze returned to the maze of gardens below and Clara was certain she saw confusion flash in his eyes. "I am going to go for a walk, you can join me if you wish." He added, spinning on his heels and heading down the trail.

Clara sighed, watching him walk away before giving in and catching up to him. There was something in his shoulders that reminded her of how he use to be. When he was the old man with a young face and child like exuberance.

They walked down the path in silence. For the most part it was nice, beautiful would be a more accurate term. The landscape around them was just as breathtaking as the view they had from the observation deck. Here, however, it seemed as if it was allowed to be untidy in the way a field of wild flowers might be. The path was clear, but around it there was delightful disorder.

Clara would have appreciated it a lot more if her concern wasn't growing with each minute of him quietly walking beside her. Even this extreme eye-browed version of him took pleasure out of showing off, telling her every fact he knew about a place. He should have been sharing unlikely stories about the local flora.

"You going to tell me where we are and its history? Or do I need to make up my own facts? " She asked teasingly, hoping to break the spell he was apparently under.

The Doctor startled and gave her a sideways glare for it. "Not much to tell. Maricanore, a human colony. Who, to their immense delight, discovered how fertile the soil was. For the average tourist there are cities like this one, the capital, with the same style. Outside the cities and gardens lay farms with fields that go on for miles. The biggest source of produce for human and like wise, and for nearly four centuries." He droned out, none of his typical ego driven performance involved.

Clara frowned, "Okay, but we're not here for produce or a pit stop, so what is going on?"

He stopped and stared off into space before turning to look at, "I don't know why."

"You don't know why we're here? Meaning you didn't take us here on purpose?" At his nod, a confused frown filled her face, "you bring us places all the time without meaning to. Doctor, what is going on? "

They had resumed walking and he took his time answering. Clara could tell by his stiff shoulders that he was going to reply, it needed time to work it's way up. He'd not been like that for a long time, it only added to her concern.

The trail winded down until they were at a lower observation point. It had also became obvious by the lack of path and the sudden sheer drop that the transit tube, at the far end further in, was the only means to get down.

Clara followed the Doctor to the end of the observation landing. This one was made of some sort of wood rather than a natural part of the mountain face. They stopped to lean against the railing.

The view down was closer than the previous one but still a fair good ways away.

The Doctor leaned his elbows on the rail and hung his head. "This is no simple accident Clara, this location in this time frame is… a no go zone. Yet the TARDIS brought us here anyway." He looked at her and raised his brows and a forced small smile, "Want to find out why? "

Clara gave the same smile before realizing it. She shook her head, "Only if you tell me why you were acting guilty and skittish when we first got here."

He stood up all the way, looking at her with a mix of annoyance and gratitude. "Gardening competitions. I use to judge, I have enemies al -"

"Doctor, don't lie. Just tell me why!"

He took a deep breath and glanced down at his feet before answering. "There is a lot of memories here -" He swallowed heavily, closing his eyes with a slight shake of his head. "Wonderful times from when I was a different man."

Clara didn't know what to say. She had a feeling he meant the little family he had with his Ponds. She couldn't remember every detail that she seen in his timeline, but she did have vague memories of picnics with Amy and Rory in a place like this.

"Okay, we'll" she wanted to take his hand but knew he wouldn't like it so she put her hands together, finger's twisting around each other. "Just have to make this quick, won't we. "

"Quick?" He looked at her incredulously while they walked over to one of the transit tubes.

"Yeah, you're right, these trips are never quick." Clara followed him in and frowned at the odd interface with a map, symbols, and nothing recognizable as a panel with levels.

The Doctor gave a slight roll of his eyes at her, "it's voice activated." He spoke into speaker by the door. "Ground level, zone blue, acorn entrance."

The transit tube began to move and silence descended on them. The Doctor seemed content to enjoy the little tourism video that played on the wall at the back of the tube. It explained the history of the area, places to see and things to do. It was impressive but Clara's thoughts were more on the Doctor and why they were there when they weren't supposed to be.

Unable to help herself she interrupted the video. "So, you going to explain why this is a 'no go zone' exactly? Cause you've taken me to places you've been before."

"It's different." He refused to look at her.

"What exactly is the issue? Is this somewhere from my future?"

"You know that wasn't a lie, the garden competitions." The Doctor remarked as he stared at her in the way he favoured lately, like she had grown a third head.

Ignoring the stare Clara giggled "You actually have enemies from judging veggies and flowers? Who has enemies from looking at overly large cucumbers?"

"Gardening is a serious sport Clara, especially here. Hmm, actually it's the mob that you have to watch out for here. Depending on the century." He shrugged, looking guilty in Clara's opinion.

"A mob, there's a mob here? Oh that's priceless!" She clapped and grinned at him, then her mouth dropped open as a thought hit her. " Wait… do you owe them?"

"No, Clara I don't _owe_ them."

The transit tube stopped and the doors opened with a ding. They stepped out and started down a path to the acorn entrance that led into the city of gardens, restaurants, and museums.

"It was a misunderstanding, wasn't it?" She asked smiling up at him.

"Clara, I've never had dealings with the mob."

"It was! Okay, hmm… " Teasing him was hard to resist when he wasn't as easy to get going like he had been before.

The Doctor's stare in return said a lot more then his usual string of shut ups. Clara felt an odd tension radiating off him the closer they came to the arch that was literally decorated with an acorn theme.

Changing the subject seemed like the best way to handle him, "Okay, Don Eyebrows, show me ya town."

The Doctor gave her a faint smile before indicating the city they were walking into. "Lahsinvat, the city of gardens. No where else in the whole of the three galaxies can you find so many and of such variety. There are even universities here specifically for agriculture and botanical sciences."

"I'm impressed. What, though, are the museums for? They just seem out of place." Clara replied, her eyes taking in the architecture of the buildings that sat literally in the middle of gardens. Some were designed, it seemed, to blend in, like a natural part of the flora and foliage around them.

"Museums for everything, the variety helps draw visitors. As expected, " he added with a touch of disdain in his voice, "They are generally wrong, if not completely."

Clara took his arm and hid a smile into his shoulder, listening quietly as he continued to give her a history lesson. She would have felt relieved at the return to his usual self. Only he wasn't, he sounded like it, but the tension in his frame and the way his eyes scanned every building, told a different story.

They walked for a while passing various gardens, visiting a few others, each just as elaborate and unique as the one before. The scents in the air were like perfumes, only without the intensity of chemicals mixed in to bother the throat. Though Clara supposed allergens would be high and later she was likely to regret this.

After several quick strolls through a few of the tourist attractions, they opted to eat a restaurant shrouded in jungle like plants. The Doctor's frame had relaxed over dinner, not completely, just enough that it startled Clara when the tension came back and climbed.

She felt it increase about ten fold when they turned a corner that led to a street with a number of museums. The Doctor wore an expression like he was about to walk into a trap with all his worst nightmares. It unnerved her and right as she was about to suggest they leave and not worry about why the TARDIS brought them, he stopped.

It was as if he stopped breathing he was so still, and he stared with an expression on that face she'd never seen before. It seemed happy and sad at the same time, something he complained about her doing.

Following his line of sight she saw a museum of rare natural art and a few people standing in front of it, some talking and a woman with a mass of curls glancing back and forth from a book to the museum.

Clara didn't understand what had the Doctor out of sorts till the curly haired woman turned around, her face now visible to them. Clara gasped with understanding and the Doctor took a step forward.

"Oh...of course " He whispered in both awe and agony. "River… "

They watched as she put the book back in a bag that sat at her feet before heading into the building. The Doctor took another step closer to his wife but then growled and turned around.

He looked agitated and torn. She felt the same, though for an entirely different reason. "Doctor, is she why we're here? Should… does…Is she going to need our help?"

"I don't know." He stated, looking tired. "Clara I _need_ to go, we need to go."

"Yeah, though shouldn't we wait and see? I thought -"

"Shut up and get me out of here! I can not risk staying, risk her… get me out of here now Clara! "

His plea was uncharacteristically close to begging, so she did the only thing she could. She guided, pulled him away and held his hand as they made their way back to the TARDIS. Clara relished in the feel of his hand around hers, having missed it, and was saddened by the forlorn expression on his face.

_)(_

 **H** e had gone in and straight for the books, pushing in a large volume titled the Encyclopedia of Universal Carpet Fibers. There was a low hiss as it moved back, and a shelf unit slide inward, revealing a fairly large portion of the TARDIS library that he preferred wasn't on hand to just anyone. His idiotic mistake that led to Clara finding the book, History of the Time War, was a reminder.

Clara followed him in and stood at the entryway as he moved further in, and began pulling books off the shelves and onto a table. He ignored her presence and brushed aside the turmoil inside.

For some reason he'd believed, no... convinced himself, that if he ever saw River again he'd be fine. That the difference between this personality and his last would be enough to turn the love to fondness and he wouldn't hurt nearly as much.

Sometimes a regeneration of one or both parties in a Time Lord marriage changed the dynamic, made them incompatible and the union was dissolved. It was normal enough and rarely a problem.

Of course it would be different for him.

The Doctor had taken one look at River Song's face and felt everything he had hoped he wouldn't. That woman owned his hearts and now he was left with impossible choices and equally dangerous temptations.

He knew the TARDIS wouldn't have brought him there without a reason. So did he choose to stay and be tormented by her presence and would he be able to withstand the temptation to change everything to somehow keep her?

A snarl exploded out of him, startling himself and his companion that he knew was staring at him in worry.

"Doctor," Clara began as he started flipping through the incredibly large volume he had pulled out moments earlier. "What are you doing?"

"Searching."

"Yeah. Okay, but for what? "

"Another way." His clipped, an obstinately vague reply.

"Doctor, another way for what? I really don't understand." She had come all the way in to face him. Leaning somewhat over the table to try and find out what he was looking at.

It was an impossible task considering he was speed reading, he just wanted to get this done.

To find an alternative to deal with what he was sure was about to happen. So far nothing was popping off the pages to aid him, a far fetched idea that would have allowed him to avoid her all together. He had a feeling the TARDIS had no intention of him avoiding.

He picked up a much smaller book and found a passage that offered up details about the museum he hadn't been aware of, yet again nothing to actually help him. The Doctor huffed and tossed it to the side, absently knowing he'd be annoyed by his book abuse later.

There had to be _something_. Something to get him out of this mess, help him help River without having to see her. The problem of course being he had no bloody idea what it was she intended to steal. He didn't really care why, only that if the TARDIS brought him there, it meant she was going to run into trouble.

Clara hovered, driving him mental with her goggling eyes. "Stop that " he growled in warning.

Ignoring him, she watched as he scooped up more books to search through. "Doctor, if you would just tell me what you're searching for I can -"

"Another way." He looked up at her, annoyed. "If I can find something. I can help her without ever having to see her."

"Help her how?"

He shot her a glare, "What is this? Pop quiz hour? "

"I'm only trying to help."

"Well, you're not." He saw the dismay on her face from the corner of his eye. He threw her a bone.

"Fine, she's going to steal something. If I figure out what, exactly, then I can clear the way and she wouldn't know."

Though the odds were she would figure it out, and it would result in one of those times she had been pretty irate with his past self.

"I see."

How did she see? Because he wasn't certain he did.

"We never properly talked about her. I've bits and pieces in my head, and yet? " She picked up a book and glanced through it, trying to find the best way to continue. "I know she died saving you, that you saved her to a library and she was a... a psychopath sent to kill you."

"No! No."

"No? Which part? "

"She wasn't a psychopath, that's not who she was."

"Doctor, I'm confused. The church lady, Tasha, said she was and what little I rememb -"

He shook his head, "Yes, she was at first! All teeth and a deadly kiss, but it wasn't _who_ she was. By the end of her life she was... nothing close." He had always hated the way others saw her, how she saw herself.

Amy and Rory were different, they not only learned to love a grown version of the baby they lost, they saw her for who she really was, brilliant, and amazing. Not a killer and psychotic with no emotions, a weapon with no care or compassion inside of her.

"The older she became, the more freedom she had from her demons and the less of a resemblance to a psychopath she had. Now, Tasha Lem, she was a psychopath." That was a truth he didn't have time to go into. Saying it out loud and defending River, however, felt good.

"River just thought she was, others thought she was. But no, River was simply, or rather not so simply, a mad woman who'd break out of a high security prison just to get herself some ice cream. A spaceship diving and snog happy space vixen. "

"Snog happy?"

"Oh, she enjoyed a good kiss. Favorite weapon I think."

"A weapon? She kissed people as a weapon? Ok, why?"

"Because it was effective." He glanced at her incredulously. "Why else?"

Clara gave him the 'You have three heads' look he normally reserved for her. "Why do conversation's with you always inevitably end up with me completely confused, and or ready to punch you out of frustration? "

It was clearly a rhetorical question, but he almost responded out of spite. He opted instead to pick up another big volume and flip through it, reminded of why they had that conversation in the first place.

"So you're not going to explain why she used kissing as a weapon?"

He glanced up at her noting the way she was watching him. Yeah, he pushed all her buttons but the foolish girl still cared. Friendship was a funny thing.

"Nope."

"Okay, going to explain what you're doing?"

"No."

She sighed, likely on the verge of punching him. If honest he'd punch him too. "Doctor, I want to help but I can't if you keep doing this. You don't talk other than to give me bursts of confusing information that leads to more questions or you do things without explanation so I stand here clueless while you need help. "

He stopped. "Clara, I don't need help."

She place a hand on her hip and retorted, "Not even when you plead for me to pull you away?"

She fought dirty, women were foul cheating and infuriating creatures the lot of them. Annoyed and unable to counter that The Doctor changed subjects. "River liked her guns, but enjoyed deploying less violent ways of getting out of a sticky situation or because she wanted to leave one of the most secure prisons. Sometimes simply to snog someone. She knew it drove me crazy. "

"You were jealous?" She found it difficult to picture him jealous.

He glanced at her a second, "No!"

"No?"

"Well, sometimes, alright... " He admitted, like she had twisted his arm," She was mine... as neanderthal as it was, she was mine. I didn't mind so much when she did to get out of a situation. But just because? Oh yes...you can bet your big doe eyes I hated that."

Clara had so many things she wanted to say about that side of him. But concern won over teasing, mostly. "You do realize you explained the kissing thing."

His response was to slam the volume he'd been flipping through, practically sneering at her before he picked up another. "If you're just going to stand there and look stupid, at least shut up."

Sometimes he wasn't an alien with 2,000 plus years of wisdom and experience under his belt, but a demanding, rude, and temperamental child. Ignoring said rudeness Clara gave a long suffering sigh.

"Shutting up isn't going to happen till you tell me what I can do."

He scowled at the book in front of him. His eyebrows of perpetual anger drew together as if they could meld into one. The constant rapid flipping of pages stilled, his long slender fingers twitched like he was in a battle on whether to flip the page or stay on it.

Clara knew the struggle was with letting go of what was likely a pointless search, yet it felt like more.

"Doctor?" A softly spoken plea that went straight to his chest.

Women. Infuriating? Yes. Cheat you out of sanity? Yes. Dig right down to the pain buried deep in your hearts and pull it up to the surface? In a heartbeat. Oh, but he loved them. He loved them for those things and so much more.

Someone had once remarked he preferred their company because they were pretty and youthful. Likely a man.

An idiot, king of pudding brains. Displaying perfectly why he loved women. They shined like diamonds, brilliant in ways he could never be and far superior to their male counterparts. River Song being one of the most beautiful multifaceted cuts he'd ever had the privilege to behold.

He sighed and looked at Clara. The young woman, with her nagging and teaching and being a general pain in his arse, wasn't a particularly shabby jewel to have around either. Not that he'd ever admit it, given it would go straight to her already massive ego, but he'd be lost without her.

"Doctor, is there anything I could do? I don't mind."

He sighed, rolling his eye's at himself and allow the book fall shut. "No. If there is something that needs to be done, it's by me."

There was such a sadness to him, a sort of worry that made him uncharacteristically twitchy. It elicited a need to do something, anything, and that likely meant more arguing. He was such hard work.

"Alright, I believe this is long over due." She took his hand and tugged him along. Pleasantly surprised he was cooperating. "Come on, talk to me."

Clara lead them to the stairs they had used for several other serious talks. This time she wouldn't let him evade the subject of his wife. She sat and watched as he followed suit, throwing her his customary scowl for her bossiness.

"Seeing that we're here and she is and something is obviously up -"

" _Obviously_."

She ignored his derisive tone. " I think you should talk about her. "

He turned slowly to stare at her, "and this helps how?"

"Really? I think you know exactly how it might help. I just don't think you want to deal with it."

It really galled that sometimes she hit the hammer right on the nail.

"You're right. I don't, this isn't supposed to happen." He glowered at her "People don't grieve their loved ones, say goodbye and then see them again years later because their TARDIS decides to ignore the bloody rules!"

The Doctor looked away with a huff. If anything he was just a bit pissed off. Okay, alright, he was a whole lot of pissed off. He had come to terms with her loss, did the widower thing a long time ago. Had even let himself think about her, mention her. So then where was it written he had to put up with this?

Clara let him have a moment. It was true, it wasn't something people had to deal with normally. Yet, since he had to, talking about her might give an out, to all of it.

"It isn't fair. Still, I think talking might help."

The Doctor snorted and stared down at his hands. Appreciating the reason Clara was insisting but really wishing she'd vanish as well. Of course, he thought, there was the option to take her home. Or send her off to fetch coffee and disappear.

He shook his head, slightly. That wouldn't work, Clara wouldn't fall for it, and it would only leave him alone to deal with this mess. Besides, he had a nagging feeling the TARDIS would just bring him right back, if she even allowed him to leave in the first place.

Resigned, he turned to Clara, "So teach, what do you want to know? "

That was a loaded question. Clara mulled it over, putting all her curiosity over River aside, what was best for him?

"Honestly, everything. I've met her once and she was dead. " She paused and rolled her eyes. " I go through some of the weirdest things because of you. "

"Hmm, you signed on."

"And you _still_ don't pay me. Seriously, even though I would like to know more about her. I feel you need to talk, about her, for _you_. And if that means discussing why she'd have been stealing in the first place, or what she could possibly be even interested in from a museum of art. Or we can, I suppose, talk about her eyes."

She didn't have to wait long for a reply. Delivered like answering promptly would make it all easier.

"First could be for all sorts of reasons. She had itchy fingers sometimes. " He shrugged, " I can hardly judge, time heists and so forth." He vaguely twirled fingers in the air as if to dismiss his own history of itchy fingers.

" For the second, no idea. She wouldn't break out of prison to come here for a museum heist unless something or somebody was in jeopardy."

Clara wasn't sure if they had made progress. He answered the impersonal and avoided the other, as usual.

"She was a bloody endless tease." He abruptly spat out startling her.

"What?"

He shook his head, turning to her with a frustrated scowl. "You're the one who asked about her eyes!"

"Yes, I did bu-"

"It wasn't just her lips or words. It was her eyes, they were just as much a tease as she was. Green with gold flecks but sometime just to torment, I swear she'd turn them blue." He threw his hands up "would leave me wondering if I ever knew the color to begin with. You know, at one time I actually questioned my senility over those eyes?! Bloody woman."

"You've been holding that in a while haven't you?"

"Yes, well." His lips twisted up into the faintest mock smile. "Just be grateful I did. My former face would have used 'nebulous green with specks of sun' or some other... nonsense to describe her eyes. "

"Somehow," she laughed. "I don't think 'nonsense' is the word you used in your head."

"You can shut up miss potty mouth."

Clara shook her head, caught between annoyed and amused. "Oh no! We're not starting that again! I don't use language like that normally so it doesn't count." He knew very well that she bad been under the influence of alien smoke, and he was to blame.

"Sorry, I forgot whose ego I was up against. "

"Yeah, I can imagine it's easy to forget when faced with your own sizable superiority. " Clara barely contained her grin.

He looked over at her. Not annoyed or with some sort of frown or scowl. But genuine mild impressed amusement.

"Now who's been waiting to get something out?"

She only looked at him and smiled.

The ranting and laughter had the unplanned consequence of relaxing him enough to where he wasn't sitting next to her like he had a rod shoved up his prickly rear end. They sat in a kind of pleasant companionable silence, one Clara wasn't going to rush.

The relaxed silence sobered him, it always did. It was in sitting in silence, he remembered days long ago and felt the ache of it. When Clara wasn't around, if he didn't just jump ahead, he tinkered and mused. He only sat still if it meant meditation, because otherwise the enormity of his mistakes and losses started to smother him.

River took up a sizeable part of those moments. He missed being haunted properly, at least there had been her voice along with the guilt.

"She could pull trust from me even when I didn't want to give it, when I thought shouldn't. " The Doctor stared at the doors, if he was going to confess anything he couldn't to Clara's face. "And she...River was mad, properly ... _brilliantly_ mad."

As with any time he thought of her, of their time together, he felt his hearts beat a painful and exhilarating tattoo. He could live for another two thousand years and never understand how she managed to get under his skin, how she became as vital as breathing. He knew with equal measure that he could exist for eternity and still love her as much as he did the first day he finally let himself accept it.

That day, that moment, was perhaps the first time he had ever felt truly alive.

"She was unpredictable and defiant of explanation." The Doctor continued, recalling with a clarity he hadn't had in years. "Egyptian queen impersonations, diving from ships and buildings, shooting hats, breaking out of prison to 'accidently run into' me at a Paris cafe in 2132, and oh, that woman... "

Clara smiled and swallowed away the feelings his admission was stirring up. Especially the way he said 'woman', like it was both a curse for leaving him and an endearment for every magical moment spent with her flowing from that one word.

"...That woman she could dance. Dance circles around me. "

He looked down with an ache in his chest. "And as cliche as it sounds she made me better. "

Clara was tempted to hug him, but placed her hand over his instead, unsure of what to say.

When the quiet between them became a bit too heavy to bear, he stood, made his way around the controls, stopped short by a question he knew was asked simply to hear him say the answer out loud.

"Did you love her? "

The Doctor turned around to Clara. Took her in, the unwavering determination to help him that swam in her eyes.

He wanted to say it. But if he did, if he stated it plain as day it made it that much heavier. Everything she was, everything they were, all they could have been, all they lost.

"What do you think?" He sighed. " Clara, the man I was before, do you believe he could? From what you remember?"

He wondered if she could think that of him, though she wasn't sure if he was a good man.

Clara put a hand to her lips, tilted her head to the side. "Yes, I believe he did."

"Don't do that, " he warned, seeing the teary compassion brimming in her eyes. "Don't you start that!"

She held up her hands to placate him. "I know you can't say it but I think you still love her."

"That's the problem." He began quietly. " I thought that if for some ridiculous reason I ever ran into her, I wouldn't feel the same, at least not so acutely. But it's _all_ there, I took one look at her and _every last bit of it_ is still there. "

He sighed at his confession and the weariness of it all. "Love, I'm far too old for the nonsense."

The words were only just out of his mouth when the TARDIS doors burst open and in a hazy aura of light, there she stood. A vision, a memory, a reality all rolled into one. His hearts tripped and his throat ran dry. A familiar scent of trouble with curls to defy explanation, and teasing eyes that found his quickly.

They stared. A mutual shock, yet he felt hers was worse. One look at her face and he knew that she thought he, bow tie, had come for her. Instead a different face, a different console room. Someone she wasn't sure she knew, who came with a different set of rules.

Her gaze moved from him to Clara, to the new desktop and back to him, she winced. "Doctor?"

"River. "

"I..." There was a struggle to appear unmoved by the unexpected development. One she didn't quite pull off. It told him volumes on when she was in her time stream. Too early to have run into another of his faces, or to have perfected her mask. A mask that would become so very vital.

She won the struggle and tucked her hurt away, she tried to smile. "I may be in a tiny bit of trouble. "

"I figured you would be." She wasn't the only one pretending. The Doctor did his best to focus on her face, her eyes, because if he looked away from her he was sure his own facade would break.

River appeared uncertain how to take his response, he would have been amused in a different situation. Apparently deciding he was on the same page she began, "So you know about Jim?"

"No." One word answers, that was great. Pudding brain gaps were forming in his brain.

"Oh." She winced again.

"Are you okay?" Clara asked and he held back the incredibly rude response dancing on his tongue. Of course she wasn't, she'd come home to find her husband was literally a different man.

River turned a subdued smile on her, one he was certain contained a hint of jealousy. Daft bloody woman.

"Yes, fine. Wasn't as quick as I had hoped, grazed for it."

Her eyes returned to his like gravity. "You know, I can handle this on my own."

He frowned. " _You_ called for me. "

"I _didn't._ "

Oh. Well, sure. It was only the meddling of the old girl, who loves you. By all means leave and get into trouble. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Over his regenerating body.

"And so why did you come in here?"

"Passed you on the way."

"We're on a mountain trail." He didn't like the way she seemed to be getting paler by the minute. Would out do her mother in seconds if she kept it up.

"Took the tube when I lost them. Seen the TARDIS and..." disappointment flickered through her eyes. "Figured you knew. "

She lied with a smile, "It's ok sweetie, I'll sort this out. My goodness, I sometimes forget how messy this whole out of order thing is. I _suppose_ I might give another you a shout, the-"

"No, you won't and I'll help."

River shook her head and gripped the rail. Somewhat bent over in obvious agony.

The Doctor started to frown in concern when Clara cried out and ran forward, it was then he saw it and his hearts stuttered.

Clara stopped River from hitting the floor and partily held up, cradling her head against her shoulder. He was beside them in two quick strides, kneeling down and lifting aside River's light tan jacket, revealing a strangely coloured wound through the hole in her top.

With a strangled sigh of fear, The Doctor cupped her face.

"River, what's going on?"

She raised her glazed-over eyes to his. "I thought it was ju-" then they rolled up into her head.

He swept her up and into his arms when her legs came out from under her.

"Of course, you did. " He glanced from his unconscious wife to his concerned companion.

"Clara, I trust you're not squeamish. "

"I'm sorry? "

"You get to play at being a nurse."

With her lying against his chest a warm tingle spread through him. Irritatingly frustrating, a faint trace of another time. He didn't have time though to ponder the sensation as he quickly carried her out of the console room.

Love, truly it was a nonsense he was too old for. Yet equally it was a heartache he could indulge, a peace he craved, and a joy he couldn't live without.

In other words; River Song.

 **TBC...**

Kudos and Comments are cookies to a writers soul.

* * *

I am tired and likely missed something, made a typo, or knowing my luck, called someone by the wrong name. So forgive me and I'll fix as soon as i see it.

This will be updated as frequently as pain/fatigue and working on Echoes allows.


	2. Chapter 2: Love Utmost

_It's been a busy, crazy, painful summer, with a muse thats been all over. Which is why I'm still working on the next Echoes update. More on the painful in the end notes._

 _Anyway, hope you enjoy this and my attempt at editing isn't too bad._

 _Reminder - This takes place early series 8, a bit after Time Heist. So character growths and relationships further in haven't grown or happened yet._

* * *

 _"Where love is concerned, too much is not even enough."_ — Pierre Beaumarchais

 **Love Utmost**  
_

Memories were strange. They could be called forth with effort or there without any at all. They could be lost in a space of hours, even minutes, for no logical reason and sometimes cling regardless of the degrading of time. Over a thousand years had gone violently by, casting a shadow over his mind, fogging the past like a steamed up mirror. Of the memories, that weren't damaging to his tattered hearts, there were some he struggled to regain clarity, others he feared lost for good. Yet memories of her, of River Song, remained the clearest. Untouched by time.

Unfortunately that included the clarity of remembering her lying in a bed in a hospital room. Pale, young, and a whole timeline yet to fill with adventures. Gazing down at her, The Doctor, like then, could feel it all pulse against him. Her life, the brilliance of it singing to his own and whispering promises of a lifetime full of possibilities.

He ached from it both then and now.

Closing his eyes, he pictured her on that throne, a crown of metal thorns, a tear streaking down her face. He rubbed a hand over his own and through his hair. All those possibilities, all that potential cut far too short.

 _And I could have given it to her. I still could. Warn her, change it, save her._

Yet that option wasn't even on the table. Oh, he could physically do it. He wanted to even if it meant giving her up, but she wouldn't want it. And that was what would ultimately keep him in check and prevent his mouth from saying what it shouldn't.

 _" You watch us run."_

Sighing, the Doctor shook away her voice, looked down at her and brushed a curl from her face. He was, as he always had been, dazzled by her and in that moment unable to stop the smile from teasing at his lips. She was going to be fine; he wasn't losing her prematurely. Time wasn't being rewritten. A fear that had begun to needle at him.

While he could do nothing about that day, the one he'd give anything to change, he could rest assured his younger self would have her in his life for many years. And that was more than enough reason to smile, to feel the long missed sense of joy.

Glancing around it occurred to him that she wouldn't like waking in a hospital environment, even onboard the TARDIS. He began tidying up, musing on where to bring her. Only partly aware of Clara's presence as she walked back in the room.

"... even so, I can stay."

It took him a moment to catch up to whatever she was babbling on about. Oh, yeah, River resting. Concern for him. Being company. Unnecessary friendship comfort.

He sighed and turned to her. "No. Go get some beauty sleep. You need it."

Clara gave him the teacher frown. Funny how that particular formation of facial muscles could cross time, space, and species. A universal expression of disapproval.

"You are just lucky my self esteem doesn't depend on you, I'd be a right misery if it did. "

The Doctor only stared at her. Even with his new found joy, he was unwilling to be social or have the skills for it.

"Fine... " She fought off a yawn, failed and shook her head. "I can take a hint. "

She took one last look at River, relieved that her wound hadn't been life threatening. For a few moments Clara had feared that he'd lose her again and...

And that fragile hold on sanity? No, humanity... no that wasn't quite right either. Whatever it was, she'd been afraid he'd lose it. That was a frightening thought.

"Get some rest Doctor. " Despite him drilling holes into her with his eyes, Clara laid a hand on his arm and squeezed.

He grunted and watched her leave, as soon as she was far enough away he spun on his heel and was to River's side in a second. Not sure yet on where he was bringing her but knowing he didn't want her waking up here. It felt important to him, this her shouldn't experience that. And so she wouldn't.

With her secure in his arms, The Doctor left the med bay and to his surprise his feet took him to a room he hadn't planned on taking her. Their room. The room he refused to step foot in for centuries.

Just as he turned to find somewhere else, there was a warm pulse of reassurance. A reminder that the old girl not only understood the timey wimey rules but this was her child. Resigned, he put one foot in front of the other and stepped through the door.

Placing her on the bed, the Doctor tucked her in, fussing at the blankets and the lay of her curls. Refusing to recognize the behavior, he didn't stop until it felt right. Looking up and around as he sat on the side of the bed, he finally took in the details of the room.

The TARDIS definitely understood. She always did. The room was familiar to him, a snap shot of a much earlier point in their marriage. Nothing to give away what River didn't need to know.

It surprised him, he had expected it to hurt, to feel like a thorn in his heart. Rather it felt good, the way old happy memories did. Warm and comforting. The anesthetic of love, a numbing agent to endure the nonsense.

Standing, he began quietly puttering around the room. Needing to be doing, activity of some kind, so he wouldn't think about the past. The room may not have stirred pain but memories of her still had that power. The 'doing' worked, though his thoughts remained on her anyway. The memories of just a while ago replaying viciously, for a few terrible minutes death had been at her door.

He felt a shift in the air while rearranging her dresses for a third time. It was an oppressive weight, the well known psychic push of fear before she whimpered. Fighting off the once, and for her still, all to real enemies in her dreams. The Doctor returned and sat at her side, leaning down to cup her face. Murmuring a Gallifreyian lullaby, her favorite, releasing the powerful words of belonging and peace to weave around them.

In some places the thin streams of colour the words produced, the very real affect they had, would be considered magic, for time lords a very old science. One rarely used as its power could be frightening, between them it was a private method to deal with personal demons. A type of intimacy.

After no more than a few minutes River calmed, her breaths became even, her hearts slowing to a rhythmic unified beat. The Doctor pulled back and hung his head, emotionally exhausted. Not from the act of comforting her but the memories of doing so before.

He remembered the first, last, and many times in between vividly. The way it felt to crawl into the bed beside her after a nightmare, holding her close as she often had done for him, shouldering a part of the others burdens. Now though he had to step away. The years between them, on the vastly warped time line, were to large a gap to be ignored.

The Doctor could help River Song with whatever had brought her to Lahsinvat, but he could not crawl into a bed beside her, feel her warmth, or comfort the way he once had.

 _Too old...I'm too old. Over a thousand years between us and so much ...to tangle in. Too old to be the man she loves._

He moved from the bed and her side, putting physical distance between them though he couldn't with his thoughts. Alternating between watching her sleep to fingering items on her cluttered vanity. Half amused that most of what was there was less with vanity and more to do with souvenirs from various adventures and trips, some he had a sneaky suspicioun were neither bought or found.

"I can hear you thinking. "

His eyes snapped from tracing the delicate preserved flower attached to the side of the mirror to hers. A smile gently teased at her mouth; and there were questions held in the lines and curves of her beautiful but exhausted face while her eyes searched him, sizing this him up.

"Only because you're nosey and stubborn."

"I learned from the best."

River slowly eased herself up a little. He wanted to help her but took too long battling himself before she finished. By the time he stepped closer she was eyeing her side where she'd been grazed, peeling back the gauze to have a look at the red skin there. Confusion flickered across her face.

"You were poisoned." He supplied.

"Poisoned? That's...unexpected. I thought I'd been shot at. A v79 blaster, typical of the century. "

She really did frighten him with her 'every day occurrence ' attitude. A habit, she never did stop, even when she gained a reasonable amount of sense. When she was rested and his hearts quit yammering, there was going to be explanations as to why he almost lost her. And what was it with museums?

Homes of assumptions, ignorance, and attempted murder. That much at least.

"Go back to sleep. "

"No. And why do you look as if I'm going to bite you?"

"Because it's a distinct possibility. "

"It is, isn't it. " She sighed wistfully, clearly remembering several past biting incidents.

"I can make you sleep."

"Make me? You are such an impossible dreamer." Her tone gave it a sense of playful insult rather than a compliment.

"It's not a dream when it's a fact." He countered, appearing miffed when he was amused. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed these games. The details, the give and take of words, had changed because he had, but the general rules, they had remained the same.

None of that though, the enjoyment, however stopped him from intending to win because he really wanted her to sleep. She was still pale, exhausted, and if they hadn't of been there she'd have lost her life. Stubborn woman.

The smile on her face wavered a little and he wondered if he elephant in the room had sat on her. The one that kept sitting on him, reminding him that he wasn't bowtie, the man that owned her hearts. Did he still own them as she owned his? Or would she smile, flirt with, and care for him, though void of the love she once had for him? Would she run back to bowtie with relief ?

He couldn't blame her. Even so, the idea bothered him, it _hurt._

It seemed cowardly and ridiculous that he couldn't open his mouth and ask her. He said everything else without filter. The right of a tired old 'scotsman'. Yet with her it was all out of kilter, twisted about and he was the pudding brain.

"Right. I think..." she paused, and his chest constricted in wait. "I could be convinced to sleep if you joined me." River patted the bed, a sly smile slowly easing across her lips.

"I..uh..." He shook his head, perhaps more vehemently then he intended. " No. I don't do... "

"Sleeping? " She questioned with a raised brow.

Relief that she wasn't rejecting him proceeded the terror of whatever it was that sat in her eyes. Not a notion of seducing him, no the emotions in her eyes were tender and there was acceptance. The latter slammed at him. He could barely accept himself and she looked sleepily up at him as she always had. With trust and affection.

"I doubt your sleeping habits have improved Sweetie, so I know you'll need it too."

Staring at her, The Doctor debated, tempted to put a finger to her forehead and command her to sleep. Be done with all the nonsense. It wasn't that simple though. Forgoing nonsense wasn't an option when it was the woman he was madly in love with rather than a little boy he didn't know.

"Fine. Alright, I'll sit next to you. Only..." he pointed a finger at her, "if you sleep. Not me, you and none of the tongue flabbing or ..." Once again she put it all off kilter.

"Pillow talk?" She grinned, pleased.

"Yes, that too."

"What was the other? "

His brows knit together, "Other what?"

River yawned, "Sorry. You said 'that too'. So what was the other? "

The Doctor watched with narrowed eyes while she settled down beneath the covers in wait for him. Oh, he knew this game. Bowtie would have tongue tied himself into knots but not him. Okay, so he hadn't wanted to mention it further in fear she'd get ideas. Too late now.

"Hugging. There will be no hugging." He stated, adding on almost a mumble. "...or canoodling of any kind."

She frowned at him as he came around the other side of the bed. "Hugging? I can't hug you? Are you kidding? " Her eyes blazed with an emotion he didn't like and didn't want to try to interpret.

Admittedly telling his wife she couldn't hug him in bed did sound asinine. He sat stiffly next to her and took the cowardly excuse, softening his tone. "You need sleep, not distractions. "

Those enigmatic, colour teasing green eyes bore into his. It didn't matter that she looked positively ready to sleep for a century. "I suppose." She finally responded, turning completely away.

If that wasn't code for 'your heads up your arse' he didn't know what was. Well, it was a fine predicament he was in. Sitting on their bed next to his upset wife after many many years of wishing for the very situation he was in. Bed and wife. The smell of her, the feel of her near him.

Silence reigned as she laid beside him, facing away and not remotely sleeping because he sat there stiff as cardboard after declaring no physical affection. Minutes slipped on in which an eternity passed and a headache began to cause a tick over his left eye.

He was worse than an idiot pudding brain, as stupid and cowardly as they come. He was hung up on not wanting to be touched in ways that felt too intimate, a physical pain when his bubble was breached. He had excuses for it, that he told himself; but if he was honest, he had no real clue what his problem was.

There had been lifetimes of loving a hand in his, a hug from even a stranger. The physical contact from a friend. Even a goofy grin at the unexpected kiss. Now he was The Doctor, a man who can't be hugged and destined to alienate his wife who he hadnt seen in centuries.

What was wrong with him?

The level of irritation he felt towards himself couldn't be quantified. There was no way, no bloody way, he was going to let it stand here. She needed sleep and reassurance and he needed to get a grip.

Taking a deep breath, The Doctor resettled himself into a more at ease position and laid a hand on her shoulder, unsurprised when he felt the slight tightening of muscles. He'd done some damage and at this point it could easily be mended but it had to be now.

"River." It was all he said in the barest of whispers. An apology and a plea.

She turned over enough to look at him, met his eyes and he let her see. For that moment he opened up what he usually kept a vault door over. This was his wife, young yes and so vulnerable, but it was that side of her that sung to his own tender side.

Without speaking, she rolled to him and he gathered her close till her head rested on his thigh. The rest of her stretched out tight against him. He let his fingers brush through her curls as her arm went over him, hugging him, embracing him.

"You should probably use a pillow. I'm a bit... boney now. "

"I'm good." She murmured.

Closing his eyes, The Doctor leaned his head back against the headboard and focused on her breathing, the feel of her skin beneath his hand. It shouldn't have surprised him that her touch didn't feel like a intrusion. It felt right.

He'd been missing it.

With her breathing and hearts starting to ease into the rhythm of sleep, he gently shifted down. Refusing to think about what he was doing, only knowing he wanted more. More of her. Laying all the way down, he pulled her closer still, till her legs mingled with his and his arm was around her, pressing her to him.

"I thought we were against distractions. "

He smiled into her hair and closed his eyes.

"Shut up and sleep."

* * *

"I can stay. As you often remind me. " Clara held her hands up to indicate around them. "Time machine."

"As you often insist." He nodded at the door and gave a quick flick of his eyes at her attire. " Life outside. Dates, teaching, and all that. "

Clara glanced at herself and rolled her eyes. Who the hell knew what her clothes had to do with this. "Yes, and I can go back to that life, after."

He sighed, annoyed. She was his carer, so he didn't have to, not his babysitter while he had a play date with the wife. "Or you can stop being a mother hen, go back to your life and I'll pick you up some point in the next century, and why are you giving that look?"

"You're nervous." She declared with a barely suppressed grin. "You are nervous cause she's here and you're... "

"Old. Yes, Clara. I'm mad with terror. " He threw his arms up " why wouldn't I be? She's... River Song, Professor of Archeology and trouble, stunning, defiant of explanation and I'm an old grouchy idiotic Scottish Timelord who wishes people would stop trying to hug, squeeze or kiss me like they have nothing better to do."

Clara's grin shifted to an understanding smile, he was thrown off balance. "I was going for different, not old. I really can't imagine her caring if you're 2,000 or 200. I don't even think, if she's anything at all like you say or what I vaguely know, she's going to care that you are different than you were before. Or Scottish and grouchy, she'll probably enjoy both. "

He huffed, "oh, I'm a long way from being 200. That's like saying your dating fellow doesn't mind if you're 5 rather than..."

"Twenty-seven" She supplied dryly. "And that is not the same or the point."

"Point being what? My charming personality? How hug and kissable I am, because we both know how much I enjoy that." It was hard not to picture his wife's eyes after his no hug declaration.

Clara giggled ignoring his sarcasm, "You know if anything that kiss, was your fault. " Referring to their misadventure where the blue fish looking woman gave the Doctor a good snog for his trouble. Clara wisely decided not to add that he wasn't hugged, squeezed, or kissed nearly as much as he imagined.

"How is it my fault? Next time I'll leave them all to die. "

"Right, excellent plan. Sadly, it won't save you when you turn on the boyish charm." A glare was tossed at her in reply.

Clara leaned against the console after watching him for a few minutes. " Why are you trying to get rid of me if you're nervous? "

He started to snarl for Clara to shut up when his eyes fell on the figure on the upper landing and all breath left his body. It was funny, she still had that effect on him. From that first smile in the library he had felt the pull of her. Fighting it or embracing it, she never did stop stealing his breath or robbing him of sense.

Standing on the landing, not far from the hall that led to their bedroom. River looked down at them with unruly curls and bright inquisitive eyes. Her face had the drooped look of someone just woken but she looked miles better.

"Am I interrupting? " She asked and he was sure she didn't care if she was.

Clara smiled up at her. "No, not at all. In fact, I was just saying to the Doctor that I can stay if he-" She paused at the look in the other woman's eyes. "If you both wanted me to."

She did know she was _only_ his friend? Or perhaps not. Clara glanced between them and settled her gaze on the momentarily stupefied Doctor. No, of course she didn't, probably thought her husband had moved on.

Uh uh, Clara Oswald was not the _other_ woman. Even mistakenly, just... No.

Tempted to hug him, viciously, back to reality, she decided instead to lightly punch his arm. She received a startled glare in response.

"What did you do that for? "

"You're a man. "

His glare deepened then shifted when she tipped her head up towards River, who was watching them warily, and whispered, "Jealous. Fix now. "

The Doctor frowned, "What? You're jealo -"

"Not me. Her." Clara all but snapped in her whisper. Rather than kick him, she spoke up enough for River to hear. "I should go. I have that date tonight."

"There's no need to rush on my account. " River came down to the bottom of the stairs .

Eyebrows drawn together, the Doctor frowned up at her. Was she jealous? Of Clara? What did she think the whole bed/hug canoodling thing hours before was about?

"River, this is my... just... Clara. She isn't anyone. " He realized how rude his (moronic) stuttering sounded and knew Clara was going to make him pay for it later.

River laughed, a genuine laugh that made him pleasantly tingle. It also, admittedly, confused him. "No need to sprain yourself, sweetie. I know who she is to you."

Okay.

"It wasn't difficult to figure out since I learned that 5 was the new 200, and Clara, there is no need to go."

There was laughter in her eyes and in the corners of her mouth. It was so like her to go from jealousy to amusement at his expense, in the blink of an eye.

Clara grinned with relief and at the look on the Doctor's face. "I honestly don't mind giving you space if you two need or want it. "

"You just want to get to your hot date."

"Oh look who said hot date. And yes, I do...eventually. " Clara glanced at River with a conspiratorial grin, "Kinda want to see how all this plays out first."

His scathing reply went unsaid as River had come to stand next to the console, to stare at one of the screens, remarking. "We're still on Maricanore."

Deciding he'd had enough of being clueless and of Clara's teasing, the Doctor turned to River and for a moment forgot all the years between them. "It appears so. Even if the TARDIS decides to let us leave, there is still the pesky problem of why these. "

He placed on the console the poison darts he had found in the flowers along the mountain trail. One of which, had traces of her blood on it from when it grazed her. Graze didn't remotely feel like the right word when it almost cost him her. It was time for some answers.

River stared at them. He could see by her eyes when she went from confusion to an unsettled concern. "What _is_ going on? A bit overkill."

"My sentiment exactly. And please, River. What, this time, has security shooting at you? "

"You make it sound like I've a regular appointed schedule with Lahsinvats museum security. "

Clara had stepped back to watch, fascinated by the history weighted in the air between them. Amused, she wondered if they had forgot she was still there.

"With Lahsinvat, no. But after five heists -"

"Five? Oh... I can look forward to more." She grinned then winked. "Spoilers. "

He scowled, a low growl escaped, annoyed he let that slip. He knew far too much of her life to go on handing out teasers.

"River. " He locked eyes with her. "Why? "

It was obvious his blue eyes under angry eyebrows didn't affect her, River remained unperturbed by his gaze. He could see, though he had no idea why, that it was something else that caused her to look away.

"It's Jim. "

"Jim? Jim the Fish. " He remembered now her mentioning him earlier, when she'd barrelled through the TARDIS doors and back into his life.

She nodded, stroked a hand along the console edge, then looked up, fire dancing in her eyes. " Kidnapped and I traced him to here in Lahsinvat. "

"Seems odd to steal a painting you can't hang up, sell, or store without a great deal of trouble. "

"You'd think so. There's a lower vault beneath the museum and that's where he's at."

The Doctor scratched an itch above an eyebrow, a reaction to the confusion he felt. Why anyone would take Jim was the question of the day. "He'll cause a splash if they're not careful."

"I hope so. Easier to keep an eye him if he does."

"That won't be a concern. " The Doctor flicked a glance at the dart. " The security for a stolen painting is a bit extreme. "

"Okay, sorry. Let me see if I have this straight. " Clara interrupted, tired of being lost from their cryptic discussion. "You have a friend, Jim. A 'fish', some sort an art procurer? And he stole an important painting?"

River smiled and took a seat, " _The_ fish. And he's been stolen."

The Doctor frowned at the evident fatigue on Rivers' face so soon after wakening. How much poison had she gotten into her system?

"Ok. Actually no, I'm lost."

To answer Clara's confusion and save his wife a moment of trouble, he pulled up a photo of a painting. A Claude Monet impressionist style of a figure swimming next to a dam. Trees and wild flowers sat pretty in the back ground.

"So that's the painting?"

"No, that's Jim. "

Clara blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it. She stepped closer and her jaw nearly dropped as she watched the figure in the painting swim. The trees, she realized, also seemed to be moving slightly as if blown by wind.

"Is it moving? " She looked between the two of them before her eyes glued back to the screen. "It's moving! How is it moving? It's a picture of a picture that's moving."

"Yes, dear, I do say it is." River chuckled, continuing on like the professor she would someday be. "Man at the Dam, or as he's more commonly known Jim the Fish. One of the last ancient living art masterpieces. And yes, whether the original or a photo of it, there is movement. Though photos lack some of the details."

Clara couldn't imagine what details were missing as there was plenty already going on.

"Each piece is unique and all contain a solitary figure. A vault, of the paintings, was found early in human exploration, First Colony era. Their origin is unknown and there has been plenty of juicy theories or gossip over the centuries because of it." River flicked an amused glance The Doctor's way. "including that they are the mad creations of a Timelord. Some say the Time Lord, or another advanced race, imprisoned the lost souls trapped in the painting. "

The Doctor snorted.

Clara glanced at him. "Are they Time Lord? Like the painting at the gallery?"

"No, not Time Lord, though old. Very old, and that painting was a stasis unit, a captured moment in time. These paintings Clara are alive, properly alive. Jim, the trees, flowers, even the tiny specks meant to be fish... all alive. There's flowing water, a breeze through leaves, night and day, and even seasons. Poor Jim, has a heck of a time come winter." His fascination and wonder vibrated off him now. Clara watched him with a grin as he moved around the console and explained.

"The paintings have fallen into different hands through the centuries, their last home, at the Living Art Society. A group, and gallery, formed to protect them."

"Which he founded. " River added.

"No, I gave them a nudge in the right direction. "

"More like a push."

"Push, nudge... regardless. Jim should be with them, given the appropriate care. " He turned back to River. "How did you find out about this? "

"I came back to Stormcage after my last outing to an inquiry. They thought I took him, imagine that? " She smirked at his bland face. "Right, I received the same benefit of doubt, only I was able to prove I was nowhere near Jim during the _time_ in question. "

"How? "

"Mercedes. " She offered in the way of an explanation, brows raised knowingly.

It took a moment, while life with her wasn't fuzzy he still had to focus to recall details. After all, it had been a thousand years ago, literally.

"Ah, " he drew out slowly. Wondering, but holding back the question on how she used _that_ to prove her innocence, it wasn't the sort of question ask in front of company.

Clara didn't need to be a genius to imagine what 'Mercedes ' included.

"Yes," River's mouth twitched with a smug smile and her eyes teased without shame. All the while her tone of voice remained serious. "And I am hardly going to leave it up to the sharp minded authorities to save our friend."

"Understandably. "

"What I don't understand is why here or why poison darts? In fact " She frowned now, "I was only casing the musuem-"

"Security measures, guards, layout?"

She nodded, "I shouldn't have stood out. Just another tourist or student snapping approved shots and taking notes. But they made me Doctor. Not the friendly we find you suspicious act either. "

Considering the outcome he had to agree. If the museum security not only gave chase at the sight of her, but then proceeded to attempt to kill her and by unconventional means, it meant this was far more complicated than retrieving stolen art.

It added more weight to why the TARDIS decided to intervene. Not solely because of the poison, though that was more than enough in his books. It also begged the question, why him... this face and not Bowtie?

Questions, he knew, they all wanted answered. With a thoughtful glance at River, it was clear she needed a few days before they rescued Jim. That, unfortunately, meant dealing with two stubborn women.

Sending the TARDIS on her way, The Doctor was pleased to discover they had left Maricinore. One less individual to argue with.

"Right. Here's how it's going to go." He started, and received identical 'excuse me' expressions from both women. "Clara, you go have your hot play date, teach, and watch inaccurate telly documentaries or whatever you do. River, you'll rest."

Clara shook her head, "Okay, what are you up to?"

"I'm not up to anything. I'm telling you to go have your date ."

"Then we're not rescuing Jim? "

"No, not yet." He glanced over at River. "There won't be a rescue, not till we're all a hundred percent. And I understand, exactly, why poisoned darts to protect a painting. "

Clara stared at him a minute, "Alright, fair enough. I'll go." She pointed a finger at him." As long as you keep your promise. "

"Promise? " River asked what had taken him a second to remember what Clara was referring to.

"I said bank heists, not museums. "

Clara rolled her eyes and turned to River. "Any bank heists I go with, and since he felt no qualms about bringing me along to rob the most secure bank in the universe, there shouldn't be an issue to include me in on a bit of museum B & E, right? "

River smiled and he knew exactly what she was thinking. "I like you. And absolutely, it shouldn't."

Looking pleased with the Rivers' response, Clara gave half a wave. "Now with that decided I'll say later. See you in a few days, Doctor. "

The Doctor scowled at her back as she left, then turned to River. "You."

"Me? "

"She doesn't need your help. Does fine on her own. "

"I can't seem to help myself."

The Doctor gave a slight shake of his head and leaned against the console. The off kilter effect her presence brought was still in full effect. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and hide away from her with equal intensity. Contrary desires were common enough for him, but this woman brought her own particular set of them, it drove him to distraction.

He glanced up at her to find her watching him intently. The command like suggestion that she should rest never formed, and instead he remembered the look on her face from the balcony. Other words slide out despite him.

"So.. jealousy. Good colour on you." Her occasional bouts of jealousy, in the past, had often proved to be... eventful.

River laughed, "I was, I admit for all of about five seconds. Then I remembered you're you."

"I'm me? "

"Intergalactic wag. "

"Oh, harsh." He almost smiled, amused.

" When it fits... so Scottish? "

"I figured since being ginger remains elusive I'd give top notch complaining a try."

She nodded approvingly, "Nice. It suits you and Amy would love it."

"You should go rest."

"Are we starting that again? No distractions? "

He sighed. "You were poisoned River. You need rest, it's not a tactic of evasion. "

The manner in which she looked at him, made him feel transparent. "Rule one, the Doctor lies and you are now."

"About what? Don't believe me? Here look at your scan results. "

"You pushed Clara out the door because you don't like her seeing you this way "

"What way?" The Doctor scowled, annoyed at himself for indulging her as much as he was annoyed she could see through him.

"That's the question, isn't it. Sweetie, despite the popular belief, I can't read your mind because I'm your wife. You pushed her out the door and now that we're alone, you're anxious to get away from me. I think that's two questions, in the lie, we both could use answered. "

He looked her over, really looked her over. The air of vulnerability was there, she was young, but it seemed that wisdom, the ability to read him had rooted early on.

"Where are we for you? Before Mercedes. "

By the expression on her face, he knew he would have to eventually explain himself. For now she'd let him evade.

"Hemshire. Does this mean more trips to Mercedes?"

"Spoilers. " It slipped off his tongue far more easily than he'd envisaged. "It means I'm old and quite possibly suffering from senility. "

River looked at him doubtfully then sighed. "You are such hard work older."

 _"Dear God, you're hard work young."_

The echo of her voice in his head made him swallow and turn aside to hide his face, his pain. The hate he felt for The Library rivaled that of the Daleks, and in moments like this it surpassed it. The neverending loss of her, always reverberating inside him.

He flipped switches and toggles, puttered around as he found his voice. Normal, level.

"Says the woman who refuses a much needed nap."

There was silence. A heavy one that made him want to peek at her, reassure himself she was still there.

While resisting, he was startled when she asked. "Do you cook?"

Turning round the Doctor gave a text book expression for incredulous. "I'm sorry, what? "

"Do you cook or has that fallen away with the bow tie and senility? "

He furrowed his brows," I prefer... fetching and you're hungry. I should have thought. Sorry. "

River smiled, a soft, loving smile that brought with it memories of sipping tea and their legs dangling from the TARDIS. Funny what came to mind.

"I am yes, though I was thinking of you. "

"Me?"

She merely shook her head in response, then stood to cross over to him. Like a sailor mesmerized by the voice of a siren, he was with her. Unable to act, look away, or resist her taking his hand in her own.

The green of her eyes shifted tones, and tantalized with blue, refusing to give up the secrets they protected. His eyes were held captive, and his hearts tripped at the emotion shining back at him.

"River." A gravely whisper that became the whole of his vocabulary as his mind went blank. Oh hell, he loved her.

The intensity of it hit him like a tsunami by the simplicity of the moment being shared. The feel of her hand in his, the hint of a smile on the corner of her lips, the sleep pressed curls brushing against her ears.

"Yes, you. A scarecrow with eyebrows. "

He couldn't hold back the grin that took over, didn't want to.

She ran her free hand down the lapel of his magician's coat. "Take out, I suppose that is marginally better than fueling up on a bowl of custard."

"I did that only the once. I ran out of fish fingers and was saving face."

The grin that lit up her face was worth admitting all such moments.

"I suspected so."

A force, her gravity, pulled at him. He suffered an alarming urge to feel her lips against his own. So strong, he thought he felt his body lean in towards her, but he had to have imagined that, surely.

In her eye's, The Doctor saw a mirroring of desire. With his eyes wide like saucers, he stammered something incoherent, until she leaned up and placed a gentle kiss. A soft brush of her mouth to his, sweet and reassuring. It was exactly what he needed.

Stepping back, River took in a breath. "Well dear. I'm famished and you can fetch us take away, your choice."

There was a mental stutter as his mind caught up to what she said. "As you like. Though I drive. "

Her laughter was a bright sound, saying she'd let him as long they ended up where he intended. The fullness of the moment washed away any left over hesitation. He was old, probably foolish to indulge, but there was no resisting her.

They'd eat take out, she'd rest, and then together they would save Jim the Fish.

Picking the cuisine, The Doctor put the TARDIS into motion, the poison darts falling into his line of sight and reminding him once more. It was all fragile, her there with him now. They could laugh and forget for a time but saving their friend wasn't going to be an adventure to take for granted.

 **TBC...**

Favs and Comments are cookies that feed a writers soul. Feed me, please.

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Okay, for those interested. I have, unfortunately, been battling a several month sinus infection, the return of vitamin d deficiency, colitis, and a newly aquired stomach ulcer. None of which make writing easy or my muse reliable. But I'm still here, plodding along.

If you haven't already, please check out the first oneshot posted in my 11/River story Reflection Within Our Paradox.


	3. Authors Note

Sorry not an update.

I thought this is the best way to let everyone know.

I've been battling with heath problems for months. Everything from extreme migraines, ER trips, disc bulges in my neck and fatigue. So I am now on an official semi-hiatus. I, however, am not abandoning any of my fics. I wanted to say something as I never imagined so many months would go by like this. I am very sorry, but I've not given up, I just can't say how soon I'll be back. I've some tests in May that, hopefully, will lead to answers and help so I can once again write (or enjoy tv, music, ect.)

My thanks goes out to all my readers, especially if you've stuck/sticking with me, thank you.

Despite being on a semi-hiatus, I am participating in camp nano, as FWvidChick . I am hoping I will accomplish something. Wish me luck.

Jen

X


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